


Passion

by zutitango



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, TeenKhan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 03:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1412860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zutitango/pseuds/zutitango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teenage Khan reflecting on his past. Deciding on a future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passion

**Author's Note:**

> I just kept seeing Benedict Cumberbatch younger while writing all this - I'm SORRY.  
> Also, I took a bit of inspiration from the Origin Comics, and what I could read up on the character Wiki.
> 
> Enjoy! Comment if you want to.
> 
> My tumblr: http://dirtykhan.tumblr.com/

A much younger Khan Noonien Singh, about the age of nineteen, was sitting down on top of his bed in his lonely room of the scientific facilities – where he was ultimately created by the people who worked on the ‘ _Eugenics Project_.’ This was a time before he ever met the officers of Starfleet, the cold eyes of the Admiral, or the determined gaze of James T. Kirk.  It was a time before he even was the ruler of so much land on Earth. Now, at this young age, about to sprout onto new ideas and goals, he was pondering back to his past for a long-lasting moment. A past he had tried to forget, because of how low it really was to his current state of mind.

Surviving in those barren towns was one of their first tasks as soon as they were old enough to walk, after being created in this very place. Outside of the main city, to a lower town called _New Delhi,_ was where he and his people were placed. It was one of the lowest of raggedy dirt-towns. The younger years of his life were the hardest. Where he barely could remember managing to find food under fallen garbage can lids, or sucking the dirtiest of water into his mouth from puddles whenever it rained. Eventually, the fight for food among the others started and it was not just from the manmade-created children, either. There were always normal children running amok and hurting each other for a broken can of beans, or something other, like a miraculously clean sock.

Such fights for a living had occurred with the young Khan several times in those first eight years of life, and he eventually had paid for being the one to outsmart the normal children on a particularly bright day. Confiscating a bag of apples from the nearby market, and making a dash for it, he could see the hole in the wall where he had made his small home of one of the noisy taverns. Scrambling for it as soon as he saw several other kids rushing at him from around the corner. Hoping he could make it in time to put the blocker on the entrance, and able to get a hand inside – crawling onto his knees before he was jerked back roughly.

Now, at the mercy of these wicked children, he could only struggle and bite at their arms – to do anything other than give up while they stole his bag of goods. Seeing something glimmering off to the right, he didn’t know true physical pain until it was sawing at his leg. Right through the bone, a jagged saw with pointed teeth was cutting straight through! Khan had let out the loudest scream and shouts that he could, before they started to pummel him into the dirt to shut him up. The tallest of the kids parted the crowd, sporting a massive scar down the side of his face, and stepped on the bloodied mass of flesh where his freshly cut tissues were burning. The younger Khan was already so far gone into shock by now, but he was barely holding onto consciousness – chest panting for air.

“Now… Noonien, is it? Hello? Are you deaf!?” Prodding his sensitive flesh with a nasty boot, when the boy wasn’t voicing a response, causing him to cry out as fresh stinging pain shot through his shocked mind. “Ah, heh, there you go… So, Noonien… I don’t want to ever see you around the market again, unless you plan on sharing your catch with us.” To which the younger boy passed out after his warning, and the troupe of kids left him alone as the dusty wind whipped over his limp body. His mind was a whirl of unconsciousness and he did not feel the cold metal of robotic arms lifting him up into the air, as propelled machinery hovered high above and took him back to the home base.

Back at the Science Facility, his leg was brought back to normal, and the piece attached without so much as a tiny scratch. So much advancements in the place alone, and here they had created superhuman people with the use of surrogate mothers and intensely spliced DNA. He had recovered from the mental trauma of that incident rather quickly, they concluded, but somewhere deep inside of the boy he had gathered quite a grudge. A thirst for revenge was growing inside of him when he found out that the boy had also been the same kind as himself. That ruthlessness in harming one of their own, something he had thought they were above, and yet that was proven wrong in the bloodied sinew and bone that had been chipped off of his body. Proof that they were all savage underneath the high-functioning thought processing and brilliant achievements soon to come.

After proving that he was one of the top in the entire batch of augmented individuals, it was now only the confrontation between Khan and the scarred one. Opening his eyes, back to his present thoughts, the older boy verging on manhood stood when his room was open. A woman with piercing green eyes entered through and was holding a dark coat in her hands of a sleek material. “Khan?” She spoke softly as she approached, and he knew her – had seen her on a few occasions. This was the scientist named Sarina Kaur, who now was speaking with him. Raising a brow he stared at her in question, “Yes, Doctor?”

The woman handed him the coat and bowed her head with a big smile. “I have been wanting to speak with you for so long, oh! My boy!” Taking another step forward and embracing him firmly, much to the very surprised young man, whose eyes widened slightly. “Pardon me, Miss Kaur?” She cut him off with a shake of her head and looking up at him. “No – no… You don’t have to call me that. I am your mother, Khan. How about we try that out, instead of something proper?” Smiling softly, and this was somewhat confusing to the man, but soon the dots were connecting. “They were keeping you away, weren’t they… Which is why you were never so present in my life, correct?”

Nodding, but then shaking her head, “Oh no, I was definitely present. You just didn’t know… I was the one who ordered for those robots to save you all those years ago, and with whatever scrap you got yourself in all of these years. I was the one to help coordinate assistance for you… Couldn’t bear to see you suffer at all.” Khan was taking a moment to process this, and looking at the jacket in his hands that were wrapped gently around her back. “And this…?”

“A gift for you! I hope it fits. Just a little something I made so that you would hopefully keep it. It’s easy to clean, too.” Stepping back from him and towards the door, watching him. Seeing him just standing there with a lost look, she chuckled and gestured at him. “Well, come on?? Try it on. Let’s see how you look.” Finding all of this so sudden, but he was accepting it calmly enough. She was after all quite a nice woman, and he’s held a few brief conversations with her growing up. Now, it all made sense whenever her eyes would twinkle with a bit of sadness, that back then he didn’t understand whenever he had to go off briskly.

Her actions were much clearer now, and it only made sense that everyone else wanted to keep her, or any of the other’s surrogate away. For the emotions that come with that knowledge can burn through the ice which threatened to freeze over a warrior’s heart. It was only a few moments, but this woman – his mother – has shown a kindness that he was missing for all of his life. Staring at her I silence while she examined how the coat looked on him with such a beaming face, and he muttered. “No one has ever _given_ me something, before… A gift, especially one as thoughtful as this. Thank you… Mother…” Finding it actually comforting in a way to call her that, when it should be more awkward and unnatural he thought.

This brief moment of calm and something of happiness was shortly lived, for when the two of them heard the door to his room sliding back open. They were greeted by the scarred eugenic, who stepped inside, carrying a long spear. “I hate to interrupt, Noonien! But I think it is about time we’ve settled some old scores.” Turning his face the other way and showing what looked like a still-fresh cut which was in the beginning stages of scarring. Khan stepped in front of Sarina, protectively, and growled out to her. “Stay behind me. I’ll deal with him.” Noticing the mark that he himself had put on the other man, and they would occasionally have scraps like this – but to do so in his own room, under the watch of cameras and all? _What a fool._ His eyes narrowed as the scarred man rushed forward with a yell.

Khan dodged to the right and grabbed at his wrist, but was kicked aside with a boot to the face, landing hard on the floor. The squeak of his hands on the super-clean floor was heard to tried to stop himself from rolling over, hair messing up in the process. Violence and adrenaline fueling him, but there was a complete standstill for the first time in his life. Seeing the grinning and wild face of the scarred one, as his target was not Khan at all – but the one person in his life that truly was connected with him in a literal sense!

Blood gushed out from her back as the spear struck through, she could have done nothing to get away from his quickest attack, and the scream that tore from her throat had Khan himself letting out a hard “No!” After the blow was done, the scarred one ran out of the room, knowing he had done a very dirty strike against the other top subject. Khan scrambled over to where she was, still gasping for air and on very limited time with such a brutal wound.

Her hands were shaking, as the spear had cracked through most of her spine and was destroying several nerve connections by the millisecond. Taking on of her hands, and looking so desperate with tears in his eyes. _But why am I crying? Emotions… We were meant to feel just like any other beings out there, and yet they pumped our system with so much more **passion** than anything else. Of all the tactical and logical strengths I have within me, nothing can ever stop tears like these to shed when emotions are so high. My mother… _

“Just—Hold on—it’s goin—I’ll help you, mother. Please, just keep breathing.” He had no idea why he was saying all of this, because he _knew_ that it was just too damn late for any sort of medical treatment. Her face was already so pale, and he knew her time was nearing the end – yet he wanted so desperately to save her. “ _Khan_.” Her voice speaking up in a calm whisper, her other hand stained with blood and reaching up to touch his face. “…It’s too late… for me… I want you… to be strong for me… _Compassionate_ …”

With a shudder, her body went limp and he saw the light leave her eyes, and he could only stare for a very long time whilst holding her in his arms. Finally, managing to pull her closer and giving one last embrace, hot tears rolling down his cheeks for reasons he still cannot understand – was there really something deep inside of him that had craved for a parent all these years? A guide, a teacher, any sort of mentor would have sufficed unlike the cold and sterile walls or blankets for solace.

 _Darkness_ now was within the heart and in his mind. A thirst for revenge like he had never felt in all of his years. There would be pain beyond measure for the one who had ultimately killed the person who could have stopped this fire. Running as far and as fast as he could, it did not take long at all to track the scarred man and tackled him straight to the ground with a shout. The scarred man was laughing, a knife jabbing into the side of his attacker, but the pain did not stop from what the other came here to do! Grunting and reaching his hands out to latch onto the sides of that scarred face, Khan lifted the head up and slammed it back down on the sleek floor. Repeated this a few times to stop the other from kicking and squirming, leaving him in a dazed state.

Blood was streaming down the scarred one’s nose, but he was barely functioning by this point, and he could only mumble out a word – a whine almost really. “ _Noonien_ …” Realizing now that he was truly the weaker of the two, and he would not escape this fate. The darker-haired augment brought his face closer to the others and hissed out with such hatred in his eyes. Years of a phrase he had been keeping to himself, and finally able to tell it to this idiotic boy.

“My name… is _Khan_!”

With a loud crunch, those were the last words the scarred one could hear before terror and death came to him in a quick fashion. Panting hard, Khan was staring at his blood soaked hands, so much of it was pooling around the corpse… around his knees… and all over the single gift he ever received from his sole parent. Leaning back against the wall for support, his legs shaking from a mixture of the running and trauma. His mind wanted to scream and cry all over again, but that storm of fire within had died out along with the first kill he’s committed.

All of these years of training, and being used for tests, to see how durable they were to all conditions of weather and physical strains. All of that he had now considered preparation for goals he had no idea existed in his thoughts until this very moment. _I will rule the world… No… We will rule the world together._ Now that the dark seed of their people was destroyed, it was time for a change of leadership, but first _freedom_ was necessary. Those eyes focused ahead, waiting for the first flood of doctors and paramedics to come this way. And Khan was sinking into his thoughts, a particular quote from a very fond read of his came to mind, and how prominent it was sticking to his soul.

“ _Seat thyself sultanically among the moons of Saturn, and take high abstracted man alone; and he seems a wonder, a grandeur, and a woe. But from the same point, take mankind in mass, and for the most part, they seem a mob of unnecessary duplicates, both contemporary and hereditary.”_


End file.
